


come to your senses

by glory_box



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Cervical Penetration, Dirty Talk, F/M, Non-Consensual Violence, Object Insertion, Rape/Non-con Elements, Serial Killers, Sexual Violence, Torture, Wetting, revenge by proxy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-10
Updated: 2019-11-10
Packaged: 2020-12-16 12:02:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21035930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glory_box/pseuds/glory_box
Summary: Frank Morrison had stolen something from him, so the Ghost Face was going to steal something from Frank Morrison.





	come to your senses

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thedeadcheese (RBnC)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RBnC/gifts).

> I took Ghost Face's point of view here because I don't usually write fic from the perspective of the antagonist... It was an interesting way to approach it, but I'm not sure I'd do it again. I love Julie and it was actually pretty hard to write her being hurt like this! Heads up for some pretty wince-inducing blunt trauma violence and just a generally grim tone. No happy ending to be found here.

Frank Morrison had stolen something from him, so the Ghost Face was going to steal something from Frank Morrison.  
  
Although he had a decent collection of knives, even here, enough that he wasn't about to find himself unarmed any time soon, he still took careful inventory, and having one go missing was something that he simply couldn't overlook. He was especially irritated that the knife Frank had stolen was one he felt some attachment to, a blade he'd used on a few early excursions in his 'night job' when he'd still been living in Utah and working for the _Highcrest Journal._  
  
He _would_ get it back. But first he would exact his retribution.  
  
When he arrived in Ormond, he chose a spot to set up a stake out, reflecting on how familiar it felt as he picked a position for himself in a cabin just outside of the main lodge. He checked the interior of the cabin first, regarding the multiple angles available from its windows. Eventually, he selected one that he liked, a sight line he knew he could remain unseen behind, and he sat and waited there with his camera.  
  
Using the zoom lens, he studied the movements of the Legion. He watched them move in and out of the building over the next several hours, mostly for smoke breaks. They acted like the bored teenagers they were; Ghost Face could see them all lazing around the lounge inside the chalet like they were trying to think up something to do. He watched as they laughed together, as they play-fought and socialized. The sight did not make him feel nostalgic; he had never had any teenage friendships like this and had never wanted any. He felt fulfilled enough with just his voyeurism.  
  
He knew that he might not get his desired opportunity right then, and that was fine to him; he didn't necessarily need his retribution to happen immediately, or even tonight. The Ghost Face was a patient man; he'd made a lengthy, bloody career path by carefully planning, biding his time, and simply observing. Rome wasn't built in a day, after all.  
  
One of the things he had come to learn about human beings during his fifteen-odd years of serial killing was that people were always so much more vulnerable than they believed they were. None of them ever knew when they were being watched. None of them ever found out just how much of their behavior telegraphed their secrets, their fears, their weaknesses. They revealed their own secrets to him, letting him get inside their lives.  
  
He considered the Legion within this thought as he applied cologne to his jaw, fingers slipping beneath the vinyl mask that was forever wrenched open in an agonized scream. He had always been fond of this mask and the exaggerated way it expressed fear, an emotion he didn't believe he had ever personally experienced.  
  
His patience paid off after a few hours when he began to hear muffled shouting coming from the lodge. He snapped a few close-up shots as the tall, slender girl emerged outside into the darkness, looking upset. Behind her, Frank Morrison appeared, reaching out for her shoulder. Although Ghost Face couldn't hear what they were saying, he got the idea of what might have happened as he watched her shrug him off angrily with a shove. Frank stepped back into the lodge with a curse and did not reemerge.  
  
Julie stood there staring at the door, as if deciding whether or not she wanted to go back in. Ghost Face watched her through his camera lens with amusement, savoring the moment for what it was: a coin flip. Julie would be absolutely fine if she went back inside; he was in no position right now to try to take on all four of them at once. And he had such a very _specific_ sort of vindication in mind, too, so it wouldn't do if he couldn't find her alone.  
  
When Julie stomped off towards the forest, Ghost Face grinned beneath the screaming mask mouth. The coin had landed in his favor.  
  
This had him in a good mood as he slid his camera into its carrying case. He waited until Julie disappeared into the trees before setting off after her. Her deep impressions in the snow were very easy to track, especially for an experienced professional like him. The trail led him across the resort grounds towards a cluster of small cabins. He hung back behind a tree as Julie walked up the porch into one and slammed the door shut. He thought he must be downwind, otherwise she would have picked up the scent of his cologne already.  
  
Through the window, he saw the glow of a cigarette lighting up inside. He waited exactly thirty seconds, counting them out under his breath, before he calmly went up the steps. The door was not locked; after withdrawing his knife, Ghost Face walked right in.  
  
The interior of the cabin was homey and modest, the sort of rental you'd book for a weekend getaway. There was a wood-burning stove and a fireplace, and a bed with a quilt thrown over top. A precious little place where a very bad thing was about to occur, he thought.  
  
Julie jumped at the sound of his intrusion, and she immediately turned towards him. She was a pretty little picture, very girl-next-door with brown hair and green eyes. She suited his tastes just fine, but he wasn't really the picky sort when it came to looks, and her beauty wasn't very interesting to him, anyway. It was a face that blended in with that of any other young woman he'd seen before. He didn't think he would have selected her as a victim, himself. At least not one interesting enough to write about. He was glad he hadn't put on the expensive perfume tonight.  
  
"Frank, I fucking _said-_"  
  
It was at that moment Julie seemed to realize that she was staring at the Ghost Face and not the leader of the Legion. Her green eyes widened in confusion, before she seemed to get it together and fumbled for her knife, hands fast as a dealer's.  
  
But Ghost Face was faster, stronger, and so much more experienced. He charged at her, throwing his shoulder into her clavicle so hard that he could hear her wheeze out all the air in her lungs like a popped balloon. The two of them went crashing to the floor. He landed on top of her and heard a deep crack. Julie gasped shallowly, her face going white with pain. One of her ribs, maybe? It was only a taste of what he had planned for her; she'd better learn to cope with pain fast, he thought.  
  
Julie caught her breath enough to begin screaming and kicking at him, trying to force him away from her. "What the _hell,_ you freak!" she screamed. "Get _off_ of me!"  
  
Ghost Face got an idea of where her knife was stashed- somewhere around her belt- as he sat up onto his knees, locking them around her middle. He reached for her arms, which she was flailing around angrily. He managed to catch one of her wrists, and he wrenched that arm painfully, making her yelp, as he groped around her hip until he felt the handle of her knife. He slid it free of its sheath and then threw it over his shoulder, listening to it go sliding across the floor.  
  
"_Shhhh,_" he said, lifting a gloved finger up to his mask. Julie's turbulent expression flashed wrathful again, but she seemed to be a smart enough girl, because she went still. He could see that a thin sheen of sweat had broken out on her forehead, just barely visible in the grey overcast light outside the window.  
  
"What do you want?" she whispered.  
  
"My knife."  
  
He saw, with satisfaction, recognizance and tension in the girl's eyes. Nevertheless, she lifted her chin defiantly and said, "I don't _have_ it, _creep_. You can take that up with Frank." She winced, trying to feel around her ribs for what had broken.  
  
"I know," replied Ghost Face, sitting up so that she could see the whole of him, every line of sharp black leather and the sight of his hand sneaking beneath his cloak. "I'm here to teach him a lesson."  
  
"So you want me to tell you where he is? He's in the fucking lodge. Where else do you think, freak-face?" Julie's loathing expression had become stiff and mask-like. Behind it, her face was sallow and terrified, and in it he saw the same face every single other one of his victims shared.  
  
They all looked the same to him. Even in the photos he kept as mementos. Just the same faces. The same expressions. At the end of the day, even a killer like Julie was still human.  
  
"Well, the thing is," said the Ghost Face as he drew from his belt a hammer with a varnished wooden handle. "He took one I'm kind of _sentimental_ about. So I thought... why not hit him where it _really_ hurts? Not literally. Symbolically. You know what I mean? I've always had an appreciation for that kind of poetic justice. I'm a writer by trade, if you didn't know."  
  
"What the fuck are you talking about?" Julie snapped, her voice trembling, staring right at the hammer clutched in his hand.  
  
Ghost Face lifted his weight from her hips. "I'm telling you it's nothing _personal,_" he said, and then he raised the hammer high above his head.  
  
"No!" screamed the girl as she tried to roll away, wrenching to the right. She couldn't know what he was aiming for, though, and all this ended up doing was making it easier for him- the hammer came down on the sharp line of her left hip bone where he could see it jutting out just beneath her belt. There was a loud, sickening thud of an impact, and Julie's screaming turned from fearful and angry to pure agony. Her hands began clawing at his thighs, trying to get him off of her, but it was pointless. He lifted the hammer again.  
  
When he hit her a second time, he felt the impact travel up his arms from his fingertips to his shoulders. It made him shiver in the best kind of way. It was a _nice_ feeling, just getting warmed up like this.  
  
"Stop!" Julie screamed, trying to kick up her legs. He could already see bright red bruises exploding beneath her skin where her jacket had slid up her belly.  
  
"I just don't want you to keep kicking me," he said evenly down at her, which was the truth, but the explanation didn't seem to be sufficient for Julie, whose eyes were flooded with tears of pain.  
  
She started to cough, gagging really, as she said, "When the _others_ find out-"  
  
"_When the others find out,_" he cut her off in a high mimic. "Enough bitching, okay?"  
  
He swung the hammer down for a third time. This time, the impact sounded hollow, like he had pushed something around inside of her. Julie retched and gasped and then promptly lost consciousness beneath him, her eyes rolling back into her head as it drooped off to one side. Ghost Face reached down to pat her cheek and pull up an eyelid. She was barely conscious, her pupils unfocused.  
  
"I know you can deal with the pain," he said calmly, stroking his gloved fingers along her hairline. "I've tested human limits _so_ many times before. They're a lot higher than you'd think."  
  
Julie appeared to be drifting in and out of consciousness, judging by the blank way she was looking at him and the wordless whimpers of confusion and fear in the back of her throat.  
  
Ghost Face now pulled out his own knife. He was attached to this one, too, just as he'd been especially fond of the victim the hilt had come from. He stroked the rough surface with his thumb as he nudged her legs apart. The very motion made her voice pitch up in pain, her eyes bulging with sudden alertness. Whether he'd fractured or broken or just bruised her hips, it seemed as though she couldn't move her legs anymore without pain. Good.  
  
"You and that scumbag are fucking, right?" he asked her as he brought the tip of the knife to the seam running down the crotch of her pants. Although his grip was loose, almost careless-looking, his aim was precise. He could hear the fibers split as the sharp tip bit in. "Has he ever actually made you _cum?"_  
  
Julie looked at him with pure hatred in her eyes. "He... he'll kill you," she said finally, her voice weak but still defiant. "He's gonna fucking kill you. Even if you stop right now… You'll… you'll pay."  
  
Ghost Face was not impressed by the threat, nor intimidated. He laughed. "I might as well keep going, then, right?" He pulled the knife up, and the fabric split along the inseam just enough that he could feel the fleshy squish of her ass bulging out through the tear.  
  
"So _this_ how you have to get laid? You- you need to go around raping girls?" Julie spat at him, laughing with the desperation of a person trying to convince herself to be brave. Her leather jacket had ridden up above her stomach and hips, and beneath her skin he could see the blood darkening and pooling like puddles of spilled grape juice.  
  
"I don't _have_ to," said Ghost Face as he produced the hammer again. "I just _choose_ to."  
  
Julie's voice hitched in terror again. "Don't! _Don't_ hit me, I'm not gonna-"  
  
"Oh, I'm done with that," he said, taking a second to enjoy the fear on her face as he flipped the hammer around, wrapping his gloved hand around the head. He pulled her underwear aside with one hooked finger and stared down at her cunt. She was deliberately trimmed, and there was a little flash of silver that he could see right above her clit. He gave the bar a little flick with his leather-covered thumb and laughed when she whined unhappily in response. "Should've taken you for that kind of girl," he said, reaching to tug on it from one end before releasing it again.  
  
"Don't touch it," she pleaded with him, part-humiliated, part-angry. He watched her cheek meet the worn wooden floor.  
  
"Can you even _feel_ it right now? Pretty sure I broke some bones," he replied as he began working the flat end of the hammer into her. It wasn't very large, the diameter maybe an inch and a quarter at the most, but the smooth wooden handle was long, and he kept a firm grip on the head and slid it in until he could feel it meeting the end of her, where her body was trying to tell him to stop. About seven or eight inches in, he guessed.  
  
Julie groaned, trying weakly to roll away again as Ghost Face pulled up on the hammer, making it slide out of her cunt a couple of inches, before he pushed it back in, feeling that thud again as the butt of it met her cervix. Eight inches, he decided. She'd probably be a lot shallower by the time he was done with her, though. He looked down at her as he considered his options and decided that he liked the look of her with the hammer sticking out of her pussy, so he let go of it and left it in there to pull out his camera where it was securely attached in its case on his belt.  
  
As he lifted it to his eye to adjust the focus, Julie looked up again at him. When she saw that he was holding a camera, her expression crumpled like a terrified child's.  
  
He released the shutter. The flash filled the entire cabin for a moment, and Frank Morrison's second-in-command immediately flinched away, making him laugh. As he angled the shot downward at her spread legs to frame the hammer jutting out of her pussy through the hole he'd cut in her pants, she began to outright cry.  
  
"_Why?_" she begged him. "Why- why the hell do you have to hurt _me_ if your problem's with _Frank?_"  
  
Ghost Face tilted his head at her, not understanding how Julie could be so ignorant of the situation. "What makes you think I don't plan to hurt him, too?"  
  
This answer seemed to wipe her mind blank, because she just stared up at him, speechless. He took another photo, this time of her expression only, and then he put his camera away so that he could grab the head of the hammer once more. He began fucking her slowly with the handle, never pulling it back too far, letting the end of it nose up against that hard muscle inside of her whenever he pushed it in. Every time it did, Julie moaned in pain and shook, trying weakly to push his arm away.  
  
"It _hurts-_" she whimpered, trying to bat at his wrists.  
  
"No shit." He looked down at her pale face and figured- judging by how dark the bruises already were on her hips- that she might be bleeding internally somewhere.  
  
"Stop," she begged him. "Just take it out, just- if you're going to fuck me just do it already, just do it-"  
  
"Because you can't wait for this to be over, right?" he interjected with great amusement. "But unlike your boyfriend, _I_ appreciate a little foreplay." With his other hand he used his gloved fingers to pinch at the barbell running through her clit. He pulled on it until he could see the little bundle of nerves swelling out from under the hood. Julie moaned, but he doubted it was from pleasure.  
  
He could feel resistance on the handle of the hammer, like she was cramping violently on the inside, but he kept battering it into her repetitively, tilting the handle up until he could see it distending her stomach, stretching the skin upward in a grotesque way. Julie began trying to get herself up onto her elbows, attempting to support the weight of her body on shaky arms that did not look as though they could hold her. Her choppy brown hair had fallen into her eyes and now stuck to her cheeks in the tracks of her tears.  
  
"Stop!" she repeated, her voice becoming fainter and weaker. The hopelessness of her situation seemed to have set in, but she was still attempting to crawl back and separate herself from his assault. Ghost Face let go of the hammer to grab her by the hips and pull her back across the floor. He sat up to press his crotch into the back of her thigh as he took hold of the hammer again. Now he had more leverage, and when he yanked up on the handle at a sharp angle, she squealed in agony. He was already half-hard and her shrieking wasn't helping, and he made sure that she could feel it, too.  
  
"You want me to fuck you? You want me to fuck you now, right?" He wrenched the hammer in deeper, and finally he felt something _give_ inside of her, like a pop, something clenching down and squeezing.  
  
Julie screamed the loudest she had yet, her body jolting and tensing like she had been electrocuted. Even her legs struggling to move with her fractured hips kicked out beneath him as she thrashed and screamed in pain, her arms flying out to try to beat him away.  
  
"Stop!" she gagged. "Stop!"  
  
Her body had clenched down so hard on the hammer that even if he wanted to pull it out of her now, he probably wouldn't be able to. He had triggered a violent reaction in her muscles, and now they were contorting in ways they surely never had before, trying to force the object out. He could only imagine how much pain she was in right now. He began rubbing his bulge into her thigh as he watched her tremble and struggle not to vomit below him, his breathing picking up beneath his mask.  
  
"_Say it,_" he insisted. He twisted the hammer, and Julie screamed. "Say you want me to fuck you."  
  
"I want you to fuck me!" she screamed. She was dripping from the nose, too, now, her sobs and coughing had picked up so much. He was amazed at how quickly she had fallen apart. He had seen her and the other members of the Legion running around all over the realms like they owned the place, like they weren't afraid of anything. But she was just a little girl after all, just as he guessed she would be. It was almost a disappointment, but it was no surprise, either.  
  
But, anyway, she wasn't being loud enough to satisfy him. He pushed his palm into the head of the hammer. "I didn't hear you."  
  
"_I want you to fuck me!_" she shrieked raggedly, her voice ablaze with rage. "_Stop!_ Stop it! I want you to fuck me!" Her face was blotchy, all red and white with terror and pain. Ghost Face shuddered looking at it. _Now_ she looked truly pretty to him. His cock was aching in his pants, getting harder and harder as he ground his hips into her thigh.  
  
"All right," he said, saying it slow and tender just for her, in a way he guessed Frank never had bothered to. He moved back and let go of the hammer so that he could pull his belt free from around his waist and reach beneath to release his cock from his pants.  
  
Julie laid there, disoriented and devastated, breathing shallowly from the pain. Her hands had come up to rest over her abdomen, where bruises had settled over her like a layer of red and purple and black paint. She seemed barely there as she stared up at the ceiling. He wondered if maybe she was trying to convince herself that it was all just a bad dream.  
  
Unfortunately for Julie, he thought, some phantoms were real.  
  
His drew his cock out and finally slid the hammer out of her pussy. It was slick and slimy and stained pinkish near the tip; he placed it on top of her chest, and she stared up at him, baffled, before attempting to reach for it.  
  
Ghost Face snatched it away before she could close her hands around the handle and tossed it a few feet away. "Just checking to see if you're still awake," he said in a friendly way. Her expression crumpled. "Don't make that face at me." He laughed as he reached out to grab her, manhandling her to roll her onto her front.  
  
Julie whimpered in pain as he yanked her legs apart to mount her. The split he'd created in her pants had widened to expose her ass, and he wiggled his fingers into the crack, feeling her dampness and sweat as he climbed atop her, thighs bracing her hips. She could barely move between his mass and her shattered hipbone, let alone try to buck him off as he reached down to push his cock into her.  
  
"No," she whispered hoarsely. Her voice cracked as she said, again, "Stop-"  
  
He went in easily. After he'd tormented her with the hammer, her cunt had become all hot and pliant inside, muscles twitching wildly, all squishy and tender around his cock. Like her muscles were just too beat-down not to let his cock in. She made a sound of pain- he knew she had to be aching down there, especially with all the blood that had to be filling the lower cavity of her body- but he just pushed in deeper, until his hips were pinning hers to the floor.  
  
"You're not very tight. Frank ever complain about that?" he volunteered as he adjusted his position so that he could grind his cock into her, getting a feel for her clutching muscles.  
  
"Sh... shut the... _fuck up_," she hissed in a quivering voice. Beneath him, Frank's little girlfriend trembled like a survivor would. He would know, because he'd terrorized them enough already. He'd already had his pick of them and chosen his favorites. You couldn't blame him for wanting to alleviate a little boredom.  
  
"Frank's lucky he gets to fuck you whenever he wants," Ghost Face groaned as he ignored her request for silence, wrapping his arms around her middle and clutching her to his body as he began pumping slowly into her swollen cunt in short, jerking movements of his hips. She was ridiculously easy to fuck after he'd warmed her up like this, wet enough that it felt like he'd drenched himself in lube first. Julie was far from aroused, though, as she laid there, responding to each thrust with an involuntary gasp of pain or whimper and choke.  
  
"That _hurts-!_" she cried out when he gripped her hips to pull her pelvis up and snuggle her ass into his crotch. She coughed violently, spitting a mouthful of saliva onto the floor. Her face was covered in sweat, and there was still clear runny mucus dripping down her philtrum.  
  
"You think he'll be mad I fucked you raw?" Ghost Face asked as his hands slipped beneath her leather jacket and the stained sweatshirt beneath. Her hips hit the floor with a thunk, and Julie cried out again. He moaned satisfactorily above her, his gloved fingers spreading over her satin-smooth skin and taut stomach. He found the band of her sports bra and fit his fingers beneath it to meld his hands around her little breasts, and he squeezed sharply, causing her to arch up into him, her back pressing tight into his chest.  
  
"Stop..." heaved Julie. "Stop... stop..." Her head had dropped into her folded arms, buried there like a child trying to hide from punishment, and for a moment, it almost felt like the old days. When he could actually end a life, and they wouldn't come back again. He wished that were still true.  
  
His leather-clad thighs made a sharp sound every time he thrust into her, smacking against her ass, and for the first time he noticed that there was a strange sensation beneath his pelvis every time he thrust into her. He quickly realized that it was because he could feel her shattered hip bone sliding beneath the flesh, almost _grinding_. The sound sent shudders down even his spine; he couldn't imagine the kind of pain Julie was feeling. Her limp legs were splayed like a broken doll's as he pounded into her, jerking with every thrust.  
  
"Tell me again what Frank's gonna do to me," he panted into her ear, his voice low and persuasive, the voice he used when he was trying to glean painful details out of interviewees. Her throbbing pussy was becoming even softer around his cock, muscles forced to just give up against the constant battering. "What's he gonna do to me, Julie?"  
  
"It's too much- it's too- stop, please, _please-_" Julie was barely coherent as she spat the words out in a chain of panicked babbling.  
  
The more she came apart beneath him, the more worked up Ghost Face felt. He dug a hand into her breast, squeezing so hard he could feel the hard glands beneath the flesh. He was reaching the point where he wanted to cum, but not yet. Not yet. "_Tell me,_" he demanded, louder. "You said I was gonna pay, didn't you? Don't want to talk now?"  
  
"It hurts!" she screamed. He doubted she was even listening now; her voice made him laugh. Fear tended to cause that kind of tunnel vision, he found. Some victims had it worse than others. Julie was one of the former, apparently.  
  
"Tell me what he's gonna do," he repeated. He was panting, but beneath the mask he had a wild grin on his face, his eyes fluttering shut as he rocked into her. "Tell me, tell me, _tell me-_"  
  
Julie just screamed in response, effectively cutting him off. It was fury and despair, a firestorm. He knew he'd be a dead man if she could get her hands on a knife right now, broken bones or not.  
  
"Fuck you! Fuck you! He'll _kill_ you! We all will!"  
  
"We'll see." He laughed, then lifted an arm, hooking his elbow around her throat. "If you aren't going to answer my questions, then you can shut up."  
  
He pulled his arm tight. Julie immediately began to choke and pitch violently beneath him, her hands attempting to peel his forearm from where it had locked around her neck. She began making gagging sounds again; when he wrenched her head up, he could see her green eyes dilating in terror. Her fingernails could do nothing to tear through his protective leather. But her body was responding with the intended result, her cunt clenching down on him, hips jolting frantically against his cock. He could feel her muscles undulating so violently it felt like she was melting all over him.  
  
"_St-_" she tried to say, but she couldn't get anything else out as Ghost Face squeezed tighter. Her eyes began rolling to the back of her head, and as she turned limp in his arms and he pulled back, he felt a sudden flood of something hot spill out over his cock and drip down his thighs. He could hear little splashes hit the floor as he thrust back into her, a puddle quickly forming beneath them.  
  
"Oh _shit,_" he groaned. He supposed that her body must have given up after all the overstimulation, and the choking had just tipped her over the edge. He'd seen it happen before. It often happened in death, too. Nothing that bothered him- no, he felt the opposite, savoring the feeling of her body giving into him so completely. When he eased back on her, his cock slipping back, more piss would leak out of her, making his cock all that much slicker when he pushed back in. Her pussy kept gushing around him for several deep thrusts before it began slowing, and it was as it stopped that it became altogether too much for him to bear.  
  
Ghost Face released Julie's throat, and with a thud, her temple hit the floor, out cold. Or... maybe he had accidentally killed her. He didn't care in that moment, and he wouldn't have cared outside of that moment, either. A shock rolled through his whole system, head to toes, as his cock spent itself inside of her. The latex mask was filled with the steam of his own labored breathing as he came, the muscles in the lower half of his body gathering together all at once before exploding. He was sweating profusely beneath all of his leather armor, but he'd always liked that feeling. It was like knowing that his efforts had paid off.  
  
He sat up to pull out of her ruined cunt, dragging his dripping cock a few times over her ass to wipe it off on her pants. Her bruised hips fell to the floor, into the puddle of her own urine that was now joined by his cum spilling out of her puffy red hole.  
  
"Yikes," he laughed. Ghost Face smiled at the scene he had created as he slipped his camera free again to take a picture of a job well done. It was a shame there would be no audience to write this particular story for.  
  
After he had taken a few photos, he stood to reassemble his clothing in its proper place. He then noticed that Julie had come to again, enough that she was struggling to sit up and drag herself over to the hammer, which still lay a few feet away. Chuckling, Ghost Face approached, lifting his boot to bring it down, full weight, right onto the girl's hand. Julie cried out, but her sobs had long since turned dry.  
  
He ground his heel into her hand and felt a satisfying crunch and shift of bone beneath the sole. Julie's ragged screaming sounded as if it had reached its limits, her throat gone hoarse. Her groan was barely audible. Ghost Face lifted his other foot and jabbed his heel into her forehead, forcing her head back so that she was made to look up at him at a painful-looking angle.  
  
"Usually," he said to her, very seriously, "I like to kill my... dates. But considering the circumstances..." He extended his ankle and pressed the hard edge of his heel into her forehead. "I think it'd be more interesting to just leave you here. I mean, you're already bleeding internally. It's obvious. That leaves you a choice, you know."  
  
Julie was looking at him like she didn't understand. Of course she didn't. "You're gonna pay for this," she said dizzily, and she began wheezing out little laughs. There was still snot dripping down her chin. Her makeup had long since turned into grey streaks all over her face. "You won't be ready. You won't. You _motherfucker._"  
  
Ghost Face rolled his eyes and pushed her head so far back that he heard cartilage crunching in her neck. Julie began to choke and gag again.  
  
"Like I was saying," he said. "You have a choice. You can stay here and wait for your friends... I mean, if they even go looking for you. See if your hotshot boyfriend comes along to save you before you bleed out on the inside. Or, since you're still feeling so _perky,_ maybe you should use the time you've still got left and drag yourself back to the lodge. It's not so far- what, three hundred, four hundred yards? I've heard dying like this can be pretty agonizing."  
  
He let go of her forehead, and her head tipped forward heavily. His boot print was stamped into her flesh in pink.  
  
"If _I_ were you," Ghost Face suggested as he bent down and picked up the hammer, "I'd start crawling." He winked at her, and then added, "I'm winking at you, even though you can't see it."  
  
He slid it away again in his belt, all slick with her blood and cum and all, and glanced at his reflection in the window- just a quick check, making sure he looked as put together as always.  
  
"You're gonna die," she growled, just a low rumble of anguish into the floorboards. She repeated it, almost feverishly: "You're gonna _die._"  
  
"Tell Frank I'll be waiting for him," said Ghost Face nonchalantly as he headed for the door, feeling rejuvenated and satisfied. He paused there, at the frame, before turning to look at her again, remembering something. "Oh- and tell him not to forget my knife."  
  
Julie screamed as he stepped through and slammed the door shut behind him. Even then, he could still hear her, muffled inside the cabin walls. He half-wanted to stick around to see what would become of her, but he had already finished what he had come to do, and he had film to develop.  
  
And so he left- a ghost drawn to another haunting.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think ❤


End file.
